


Opportunity

by celeste9



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Chance Meetings, F/M, Flirting, Multi, Pre-Relationship, Threesome - F/M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 17:30:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10036283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: Sometimes, Obi-Wan discovers, as he meets a young couple from Tatooine, the galaxy can be a very small place indeed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So it seems today is Polyshipping Day on Tumblr, so I thought I ought to try to write something to celebrate. The lovely rain_sleet_snow suggested our delightful crack ship, so, here we go. :) Please accept my hand-wavey explanation for why Owen and Beru are on Ryloth, lol.

“Of all the planets in the galaxy, we end up on another one overrun with Hutts,” Owen grumbled.

“We’ve hardly even seen a Hutt,” Beru said as they walked. “Stop exaggerating. Enjoy the green.”

“It isn’t as green as I would have thought.”

“Then be quiet so I can enjoy the peace, if all you want to do is complain.”

“I told you we should never have accepted this, it was too--”

“Owen Lars,” Beru said, stopping in place and waiting until Owen met her gaze. He did so slightly shame-facedly, as though he had already realized he’d pushed his luck. “How many moisture farmers from Tatooine ever get to set one foot off that sandy rock? And here you are on Ryloth, on a pleasure trip you didn’t even have to pay for. Please at least pretend to enjoy yourself so when I tell the Darklighters how it was my lie will be a bit easier to make.”

He had at least ten more things he wanted to dispute, Beru could tell, starting with how exactly he felt about the Darklighters’ charity, but Owen only nodded. “Yes, Beru.”

“Good,” she said, and began walking again.

She’d be damned if her stubborn ass of a partner ruined this for her. 

Beru had dreamed of leaving Tatooine. She’d been smart enough. But then she’d meant Owen, and she had wanted him. She had had no opportunity to leave but a very good reason to stay.

So she stayed. But this, this was an opportunity, even if it was a limited one, a trip with a built-in return, and Beru was determined to make the most of it.

Even if she had been sick the entire flight. 

“The town is lovely,” Beru said, in a forcible tone that was meant to convince. 

“Most of it’s underground,” Owen said, and then, with exceeding grumpiness, “but, I’m sure, quite lovely.”

Unable to defeat the smile threatening at the corners of her mouth, Beru gave in to it. She stopped to frame Owen’s face in her hands, kissing the furrowed lines in his forehead. Yes, she was going to have this stubborn ass for her own.

And that was when the cart up-ended beside them, spilling fruits all over the street, while a little Twi’lek girl burst into tears.

-

It had been a long time since Obi-Wan had been on Ryloth. Not since he’d been a Padawan, and didn’t that feel like another lifetime. He was sorry to say that not much seemed to have changed. Exploitation, slavery, and the Hutts’ criminal enterprises.

Obi-Wan kept his head down and wished he had leave to do more.

The Council had only sent him here to look into the political situation. So many uprisings of late, and they feared the impetus came from without. Anakin was on a similar mission, elsewhere in the Outer Rim.

Hopefully he was keeping his head down, too. Not that Obi-Wan was feeling particularly optimistic on that front.

He had forgotten himself, too busy keeping his head down that he was staring at his feet, perhaps, and he accidentally disrupted a young Twi’lek girl pushing a small fruit cart. The whole thing fell over in a mess, sending a cloyingly sweet scent misting through the air and disturbing a young couple who had been in the street.

The girl started crying.

“Oh, dear,” Obi-Wan said, sighing as he went over to kneel beside her. “Here, don’t cry, it’s only fruit.”

The girl wailed louder. That was truly a set of lungs on her.

“It was my fault, really, entirely my fault, and I’ll help you clean up, yes?” He was already piling fruit back into the cart, leaving the bad ones.

“It isn’t the mess she’s worried about,” said a young blonde woman, one half of the pair Obi-Wan had noticed. “Was that for the market?”

The girl nodded, still crying.

And then Obi-Wan understood. These were poor people and he had spoiled half the girl’s goods. 

Well. The Council could yell at him later for unnecessary expenditure.

“Here,” he said, pulling credits out of his pocket and stuffing them into the girl’s hands. “Will this make up for it?”

Finally the girl’s wailing ceased, though tears still leaked out onto her blue cheeks. “Thank you, sir,” she said, sniffling.

“Go on, now, sweetheart,” the woman said. “Back to your parents, all right?”

Needing no further encouragement, the girl wiped her forearm across her nose and then went off, pushing her little cart.

The woman stood quicker than Obi-Wan did, the man she was with looming behind her shoulder. They made a handsome couple. “The Jedi have deep pockets, it seems,” she said. “That is what you are, isn’t it? A Jedi?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. He didn’t know why this small, delicate-featured woman made him so ill-inclined to do anything that would to displease her.

“A Jedi,” the man scoffed. “First the Hutts, now a Jedi. Yes, Beru, be sure to thank the Darklighters extensively for their generosity in arranging this trip.”

“You’re travelers, then?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“We certainly wouldn’t live here by choice. Owen Lars, and this is Beru Whitesun, my…”

“His future wife, if he’s lucky,” Beru finished for him.

_If he’s lucky indeed,_ Obi-Wan thought to himself. The sternness of Owen’s features infused with softness as he looked at Beru. “Lars and Whitesun,” Obi-Wan said. “Those are Outer Rim names, aren’t they?”

“Tatooine,” Owen confirmed.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, though perhaps he should be less surprised. They were dressed like they were still in the desert. “Tatooine? Don’t often see travelers from Tatooine, not even elsewhere in the Outer Rim.” Ryloth was close, of course, but most of Tatooine’s civilians were poor farmers who never made it much farther than their own land.

“And we don’t often see Jedi,” Beru said. “I assume Jedi still have names?”

“Obi-Wan.”

Rolling his eyes, Owen said, “Obi-Wan. Damn Jedi.”

Beru disguised the way she was pinching Owen in the side by sliding her arm around his waist. “Don’t be rude.”

“I’ve had worse,” Obi-Wan said, smiling.

“Should like to think we can do better. I wouldn’t like you to form a poor opinion of us, or think everyone from Tatooine is an unpleasant grouch.”

“Oh, I know someone from Tatooine quite well, actually.”

“Do you? And are they an unpleasant grouch?”

“Only in the mornings.”

Beru laughed. Obi-Wan found he liked the sound of it. He wondered if she did it often. 

“My father married a woman whose son became a Jedi,” Owen said. He said it with nonchalance but there was sharp suspicion in his face.

_Stars,_ Obi-Wan thought. Surely the galaxy couldn’t be that small. “Did he?” Obi-Wan said, tone carefully neutral.

“His name was Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help his flinch. Owen looked victorious.

Beru was looking from one to the other. “Do you mean we’ve just found, on Ryloth, a man who knows Shmi’s son?”

“Perhaps we must thank the Darklighters after all,” Owen said, his lips twitching.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, and swallowed. “Anakin is part of the Jedi Order. He may have been born to Shmi but he has no connection to her any longer.”

Though Owen’s face creased in a flash of anger it was Beru who spoke.

“Shmi keeps clothing for him, you know,” Beru said softly. “She’s had to guess at the size but she sewed it just for him. In case.”

Obi-Wan hesitated. “The Jedi--”

“I know,” Beru interrupted. “Shmi told us. He was never to look back. The Jedi have no family. Stupid rule.”

“The Jedi must care for all, and favor none,” Obi-Wan said, his eyes on the sky above their heads. As though he wouldn’t have razed half of Theed to save Qui-Gon, if it would have made a difference.

Anakin would do more, he thought. But then, Anakin was… Anakin.

“Like I said,” Beru said, gripping Owen’s elbow tightly. “Stupid rule.”

Owen’s voice was gruff, as if to feign a lack of interest he didn’t actually feel. “You might tell him, anyway. Tell him his mother is well.”

Obi-Wan made himself meet Owen’s gaze. “I might.”

After a moment, Owen nodded. 

Somehow Obi-Wan felt he couldn’t leave it like that. So harsh, so final. He wanted… “What… what do you do, then? On Tatooine?”

The tilt of Owen’s mouth and the sparkle in Beru’s eyes let Obi-Wan know that they found him a bit ridiculous, but perhaps in a pleasing way. “What does anyone do on Tatooine?” Owen said. “My father owns a moisture farm. I help him to run it, more and more as he gets older. Beru, well, Beru’s got a good head for business and an inexplicable fondness for me.”

“He’s a terribly good hunter,” Beru said, as though that should mean something.

Obi-Wan wondered how he could ask what they were doing on Ryloth without insulting them. Perhaps the Lars moisture farm was more lucrative than Obi-Wan could guess. “You’re enjoying Ryloth?” he tried.

“We’re working up a good lie,” Owen said, and Beru smacked his arm.

“We’re happy to see something of the galaxy,” she said. “And grateful for--”

“The charity,” Owen grumbled.

“The gift,” Beru insisted. “As repayment for our help.” She looked to Obi-Wan. “A raid. Terrible thing. It was lucky Owen was…”

Obi-Wan thought he understood. The Tusken Raiders, he remembered. Anakin had spoken of them sometimes. Tatooine was a harsh place, a long way, certainly, from Coruscant.

“Well,” Beru said. “I suppose you have important business here on Ryloth, Obi-Wan. No time to share a meal with some farmers from Tatooine?”

The temptation was there. He didn’t know why but he liked these handsome farmers from Tatooine, this strangely fascinating pair. But that wasn’t what Obi-Wan was here for.

The Jedi, and the Council. That was Obi-Wan’s life.

“I’m afraid not,” he said, his regret genuine. “I must be on my way. There’s…”

“Matters to attend to, too important for us to know,” Owen said.

Obi-Wan inclined his head. He wouldn’t have put it so plainly, but Owen didn’t seem like a man to tiptoe around anything. 

Beru reached out to touch Obi-Wan’s hand briefly. “Shame. If you’re ever on Tatooine,” she said, leaving the sentence hanging, though the meaning was clear.

Obi-Wan dipped his chin and smiled. It was an easy allowance to make, for the likelihood was so small as to almost be non-existent. Still.

Tatooine. He’d never cared to return to that desolate sandy sinkhole, but…

If ever the opportunity arose, he could possibly be persuaded.

**_End_ **

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at [serceleste](http://serceleste.tumblr.com). :)


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